to. He’s just an arrogant asshole whose ego I bruised for about the hundredth time.”
“What happened between you two?”
“He was someone I dated for a while before you. He claims to have loved me. I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I don’t see it that way.”
“You don’t think he loved you?”
“His love came with strings and conditions, expectations that I couldn’t live up to. He wanted a woman who worked but not too much. A woman who was independent but still needed him; a woman who cooked and cleaned but wasn’t a housewife. It was just all too much; it was more than I could ever be.”
“No one can be all of those things. Everyone make sacrifices. We make choices, we prioritize the things that we want, and that’s not to say you can’t have more, that you can’t balance other things, but you can’t do it all.”
He gets it, he actually understands what I’ve been struggling with all these years, what I’ve found to be intolerable in most of my other relationships. His words leave me with a sense of relief and a glimmer of hope. Hope for the same kind of understanding when I tell him the truth in a few days; hope that he’ll stand by me instead of walking away.
“I’m sorry that you had to get involved like that.”
“I’m not. I guarantee you that he’ll never speak to you again.”
“Then why are you still gripping the steering wheel like you want to rip someone’s head off.”
He loosens his grip, and his lips tip up in a grin.
“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t take it out on you unless you want me to.”
I’m fairly certain my panties disintegrate right here, and I’m more than willing to let him take it out on me. As a matter of fact, he can take out any and all of his moods on me as long as it ends in orgasms. I turn my attention back to the road, letting the tension in the car dissipate. I never thought I’d be the kind of girl caught in the middle of a bar fight. In the past, a scene like the one that played out back there would have probably pissed me off, but now, after having been the woman involved, I actually think that was kind of hot.
I’m not wrong; when we make it back to the house, Nathan takes his frustration out on me in the best possible way. He takes it out on me a lot and in various different positions, and just like I thought it would be, it is hot.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It’s late when we get home from the shore. Nathan takes our bags into my bedroom, and I follow behind him closely. My anxiety level has spiked because I’ve decided that I can’t wait any longer to fill him in on the things he doesn’t know about me. It’s now or never, and I can’t spend one more night with him feeling guilty about keeping him in the dark. He drops my bag on the chaise lounge and turns to face me.
“Are you all right? You were quiet most of the way home.”
I take two steps forward, locking my arms around his waist, and burying my head in his chest.
“I’m okay. I’m just tired and a little hungry.”
He cups my chin in his hand and gently pulls my head up till our eyes meet.
“You should have told me that you were hungry. I would have stopped and gotten you something.”
“I know. I just wanted to get home.”
He leans in, running the tip of his nose along mine.
“Why don’t you take a shower, get relaxed, and I’ll make you something to eat.”
God, I love him. I love him so much, and this could be the last time we ever have this, a tender moment like this one. I fight back the tears that threaten, force a smile, and nod.
“That sounds great,” I tell him. I’ll just take the shower, do my best to calm my nerves, and then I’ll tell him. It’ll be fine—it has to be. You’re not going to lose him now, not after finally finding him.
In the shower, I let the warm water wash over me while I stand there motionlessly. I run the conversation over in my mind, all the different scenarios and all the different outcomes. Nathan, I have something to tell you… Nathan, I don’t know how to tell you this… Nathan, there’s something I think you should know… I’m a Madam…